


Beach, Tree, Peyote

by lalejandra



Category: lotrips
Genre: Gen, Peyote, Transformative Works Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-24
Updated: 2004-06-24
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:12:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: bad actors with bad habits; some sad singers, they just play tragic(-bright eyes, "lover i don't have to love")





	Beach, Tree, Peyote

Something is happening in the doorway, there's a huge disturbance, there's going to be a brawl; Viggo comes up with an old phrase that no one has used since the 70s. "You're cruisin' for a bruisin'," he says, and manages to affect something that could pass for a Brooklyn accent, if the people listening were drunk, which they are. Elijah giggles. Sala laughs, booming, dwarfing Elijah's "Hee hee hee!", and Ian chuckles.

There are other people there, but they aren't paying attention. Neither is Viggo; that might be the peyote Karl gave him for his birthday. Nice guy. Thoughtful. Interesting. Viggo tries to remember when he and Karl -- but he can only remember Eomer and Aragorn.

Viggo leaves the conversation and walks down the hall. Billy is standing very still.

He puts his hand on Billy's shoulder and in a low voice he says, "Please -- " and Billy doesn't even turn around, just shrugs his hand off and walks away from the doorway, down the hallway, out of the house.

"Leave him," says Elijah. Where did he come from? He pulls the door shut and he's careful not to let the door make noise, not to interrupt the occupants of the room. Dom's mouth was open, wide, so wide, and his eyes were squinched shut, and Orlando was pulling his head back by the hair.

Viggo would have walked away too, he thinks, or he would have gone in. It's a perfect toss up. Fifty-fifty. Elijah's lighter clicks and goes out and his cigarette isn't smoking. Viggo reaches down with the book of matches he keeps tucked in his fifth pocket, and lights the cigarette.

"Just let him go," says Elijah around all the smoke, and Viggo leans against the wall, still staring at the door. "Come back to the party."

"Hm," says Viggo, and Elijah takes his arm.

"Hm?" repeats Elijah, tugging on his arm now. Viggo is a tree, he is planted in the hallway, his legs are roots, digging into the ground, he is immobile, but changes, so he isn't static, he --

"I'd have thought it would have been the other way around," he says. He sways toward Elijah, then the other way, then leans against the wall and closes his eyes. He's frowning, he can feel his face moving, he's thinking.

"What? Billy -- Billy would never -- Billy hasn't! Billy! I don't know what you're implying here, Viggo. If you're thinking that -- "

Viggo opens one eye and then the other and looks at Elijah. His face is red and he's scowling. He seems almost prepubescent, with too much knowledge. A hustler. Too defensive. Interesting; small and thin and narrow. Not a pairing he would have expected.

"Dom on top," says Viggo, and Elijah says, "HA!" loudly, like a crack, and pulls harder. Viggo comes off the wall and lets Elijah lead him back down the hallway. He can hear Craig already. Gay rights in Fiji. Transsexuals. Ian's voice rises above all the rest; Elijah joins the conversation with a comment about strap on dildos, everyone laughs.

Viggo looks out the window for Billy -- on the beach. A small figure, standing against the wind. Billy is a tree, isolated; he has water. Viggo wonders if Billy is smaller than the waves breaking; he wonders if Billy will tell anyone what he saw. If he doesn't, Elijah surely will. If Elijah doesn't, Viggo might paint it, if he can remember that he wants to paint the hallway, not the bedroom.

  



End file.
